


White Room

by JantoJones



Series: Further Brief Briefings [15]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-03-27 14:28:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13882812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JantoJones/pseuds/JantoJones





	White Room

Their assignment was done and dusted, and accounting had authorised a hotel for the night. After booking in, and discovering that they had a room each for once, Napoleon and Illya headed for the elevator.

“It’s only 4:30,” Solo stated, glancing at his watch. “Plenty of time to shower and have a nap. Meet you in the lobby at 7:30 for dinner?”

Illya nodded his agreement. No doubt Napoleon would go in search for female company later on, and that was fine by him. They rarely got the luxury of separate rooms and he was looking forward to a full night’s sleep without having to wait for Napoleon to finish any dalliance. 

Just over three hours later, the agents were perusing the menu of the hotel’s restaurant, awaiting their meals.

“Do you think someone in accounting has made a mistake?” Napoleon asked. “The rooms here are exceptional. It can’t be cheap.”

“If my room is anything to go by, I would say they were trying to dissuade us from asking for quality accommodation in the future.”

“What do you mean?”

“Everything is white,” Illya explained. “It was like being inside a snow drift.”

“I think it looks elegant,” Solo told his partner. “Very clean and fresh. I doubt it will prevent you from sleeping, as I have seen you napping in an actual snowdrift.”

Illya snorted a laugh. He couldn’t deny the truth of it; he possessed the ability to sleep almost anywhere.

Following a more than acceptable meal, during which Illya had two desserts, Napoleon bade his friend farewell and went in search of a nightclub. The Russian pondered whether he should also go and seek out some entertainment, but decided that sleep was his first priority.

The following morning, Napoleon said goodbye to the beautiful redhead who had agreed to share his bed, and went to rouse Illya. After knocking on the door a couple of times, but receiving no answer, Solo returned to his own room. He called down to reception and asked them to call the telephone in Illya’s room. Again, there was no response. Trying not to let panic take a hold, Napoleon dug out his communicator and tried to contact the man that way. A few seconds later, a weary sounding Illya answered.

“Where on Earth are you?” Solo demanded.

“I am in the car,” Kuryakin replied. “I could not sleep in that room.”

“Why ever not?”

“All the white,” Illya explained. “It was too much like being in Medical.


End file.
